


Peonies and Lavender

by HDavalon3



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Force-Sensitive Reader, I will add tags as I go, Kylo Ren is Grumpy, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Reader gets annoyed easily and is a gossip lol, Reader is a PA, Reader is fem - Freeform, Slow Burn, Star Wars - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:27:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25043878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HDavalon3/pseuds/HDavalon3
Summary: You didn't want to be Kylo Ren's Janitor, and technically you weren't, but it sure as hell seemed that way. Being Hux's Personal Assistant, you were often given the jobs he would rather not have to deal with, and cleaning up Ren's messes was one of those. But when you accidentally aid a prisoner's escape and Hux abandons you for a routine checkin on the Supremacy, you get stuck with more that you bargained for.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Reader, Ben Solo/Reader, Kylo Ren/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow okay uuuh Hi I'm Avalon, your author. I read A LOT of kylo fanfics and have been meaning to write for a while haha. So I hope you enjoy and this won't be a quick read as I add more and more to it :) It's slow burn. Yup

You didn’t really know what to expect when you took the position as General Hux’s Personal Assistant. Of course they told you a couple of the basics during the interview process; you would be handling his schedule and his dinners, along with accompanying him to almost all of his meetings and important events, but what they hadn’t told you, was that you would also be given a second official position as Kylo Ren’s Personal Maintenance technician. Or as you like to call it, a “two year old’s tantrum clean up crew” or “Kylo Ren’s janitor” if you were short on available brain cells once you were told that there was another mess to clean up. See, Hux didn’t necessarily enjoy dealing with Ren anymore than he had to in order to keep the First Order in business so, naturally, he thought he could just push it off onto his poor PA and not have her put up a fight. Which was correct due to you wanting to keep your current job. It was much better than your previous assignment as the (Y/N) The Intern. Thinking back to those days always pulled a shiver up your spine and plagued your brain with bad thoughts of being pushed around and yelled at by officers over their drink orders along with other mundane tasks. Why did they need cream? Why couldn’t they get their coffee by themselves?  
You shook yourself out of your thoughts as Hux finished telling you the location of Ren’s most recent uh… outburst. The General had ordered you to stop being outwardly bitter about it, “Ren is your superior after all, (Y/N).” Although you had to keep a straight face, that doesn’t mean you couldn’t trash the guy inside the safety of your own mind, right? “Are you listening to me? The third floor, west wing? (Y/N)!” Hux cut through your monologue with an annoyed sneer, as was normal when he thought you weren’t paying enough attention to him.  
“Yes sir. Of course sir,” he huffed, crossed his arms behind his back (creasing his freshly ironed jacket, ironed by you of course. He “didn’t trust anyone else to do the job right”. Perhaps you should take that as a complement?), spun around, and began talking to his Lieutenant. Mitaka, you believed his name was. Timid man, but attractive. At least to you. Octavia, your best friend, head engineer, and your neighbor, does not think as much. “He’s too meeky,” she would reason as you spoke about him in the canteen.  
Left to your own annoyed devices, you let out a sigh and began the trek to the elevator. I swear if I have to replace one more control panel I’m stealing a TIE fighter. Of course you wouldn’t, but you were able to fly one due to your pilot father, whose only joy was teaching you how to fly anything he could get his hands on. You wouldn’t however, as you wished to keep your head, as well as not wanting to leave Octavia. Thoughts of escaping or abandoning the First Order came often to you as you received more and more irritatingly ridiculous orders from the General and his goons. You wouldn’t though. Well… no. You wouldn’t.  
Pressing the third floor button in the elevator, you glanced down to your datapad, ready to put in orders for destroyed equipment that will only serve to negatively impact the damage recovery costs, much to your chagrin. You were the one who had to approve quite a few different budgets, and as Kylo Ren’s Personal Maintenance Technician, that was the largest horse you had to handle. And for some ungodly reason, Hux always blamed you for the overages.  
Sighing, you exited the elevator onto the third floor. You could see it now. Decimated control panels. Dented walls. Singed metal shrapnel askew throughout the room. Typical for Ren’s tantrums. Boy am I gonna get an earful tonight. Great, just what I need right now.  
What you hadn’t expected, was for the damage to be inflicted on an interrogation room. Much less with a whole, alive prisoner still being held. You stopped in the doorway, suddenly aware of the heavy tension that was suspended in the air. How suffocating.  
Clutching your datapad a little tighter to your chest, you quietly strolled up to the prisoner. “Hello.”  
A simple, one word greeting was all you cared to give as you began to assess the damages.  
The girl stayed quiet as the tension only grew thicker; which you didn’t even believe was possible. Great. Another wall to be replaced. You entered it into the purchase form, feeling eyes on your back. I hate it when people stare at me. Please stop, girl. Kriff why is this thing so slow? You tapped a little harder on the datapad, becoming more and more irritated as the seconds ticked by. Quickly pushed to your breaking point, you spun around and harshly accosted her. “Can I help you?”  
Her eyes widened as she stared at your cocked eyebrows and the hand on your uniformed hip. Hux made you wear a pencil skirt and a basic First Order issued blazer and you hated it almost just as much as your second job. It just wasn’t practical. “My name is Rey. What’s yours?”  
It seemed she was just desperate for good conversation, and the more you thought about it you were not overjoyed at the engagement, but you figured you would satiate her. Just this once. “My name is (Y/F/N), Personal Assistant to General Hux and,” you winced, “Commander Ren’s Personal Maintenance Technician.”  
Kriff, you hated introducing your second position but Hux insisted you do. It’s only to humiliate me. Is this job really worth it? Yes. It is better than being a trooper after all. That's how you continued to justify the teasing and humiliation Hux dealt you. Rey’s eyes narrowed at you before slightly crinkling at the corners. She thinks this is funny? You narrowed your eyes at her in an attempt to look intimidating and the amusement dropped from her features. “So you're that monster’s janitor then?”  
Only you could call yourself that! Clenching your fists around your datapad, you stepped towards her, trying to keep the anger from your features. “You must have some ego. Being a prisoner and speaking to an officer like that. I’m surprised Ren has kept you alive.”  
Anger crept up her neck and contorted her features. Suddenly, a calm washed it out. Oh what an ability to have. “You will unlock these restraints and open the door.” She stated, making full eye contact with you.  
A tugging was felt, pulling you over to her. It was shallow and slight, but it was there. You raised a groomed eyebrow at her, “And why would I do that? I’m already going to be chewed out for that wall.”  
Rey furrowed her eyebrows and tried again, “You will unlock these restraints and open the door.”  
You were getting annoyed now. Your hand crept towards the blaster holstered on your thigh and you took a step towards her, debating whether or not to use it. “Do not take me for a fool Rey,” you spat. “There is a reason I work directly with the general. I will not be manipulated by your mind tricks. You’re better off asking one of the Stroomtroopers. They’re stupid.”  
Although you didn’t want to get in trouble yourself, you wouldn’t mind seeing another gray hair sprout on Hux’s ginger head. It’s been getting a little mundane around here. The gossip was growing dry and Octavia would thank you later. Her eyes widened at your covert suggestion as you turned around to walk out. However, you felt undoubtedly compelled to fuel the fire a bit. “Oh and Rey? Don’t let Commander Ren see you. He’ll have an aneurysm and that will make my job that much harder.” Flashing her a smirk and a wink over your shoulder, you closed the hatch behind you, making your way to the lair as the technicians called it, which you thought was hilarious, to report the damage and give orders.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haha Kylo has officially made an appearance. I always think of notes to put while I'm writing and then forget about them so uuuh yeah

“You will unlock these restraints and open the door. And leave your weapon”  
\------  
You were making the trek back to the command center when you heard it: a modulated, furious yell breaking through the blaring alarms on the third floor. In order to get back to the command center from The Lair, you had to retrace your steps past the interrogation room that you visited earlier. That stupid Commander better not be destroying it again.  
Most would call you cold, or icey, or emotionally unavailable, you’ve heard all three, for not caring about the rebel prisoner that was most likely facing Ren’s wrath at the moment. You, on the other hand, would call yourself a good officer. Never being one to care about others well beings, which is truly what made you a good officer, you walked past the interrogation room, taking the foreshadowed destruction in stride. Social Darwinism was an idea you respected greatly. Survival of the fittest. Especially during war. That’s essentially what it is, right? Natural selection. The stupid people got picked off and the smart, strong, and strategic people survived to see the sunrise. No wonder we lose so many Stormtroopers. Dearest General Hux would never hear about this, but you despised the Troopers. They had blown up far too many training centers and tripped you one too many times (once) in the hallways for you to respect them, and apparently they had been manipulated by Rey.  
You had only gotten about five yards away from the aforementioned room (which the guards were seemingly absent from) before feeling yourself being tugged, actually more like yanked, backwards towards the source of the chaos. Kriff! If I get manhandled one more time today I swear I’ll-  
“Where is my prisoner?”  
Suddenly you were face to face with the Commander that you talked so much smack about to Octavia, that you called so many bad names in your head, that milked so many nasty and annoyed expressions out of you, and needless to say, you were terrified. “I’m sorry sir I don’t know what you’re talking ab-”  
“You were the last one in the room. How did she escape?” His metallic voice cut you off, laced heavily with anger and frustration.  
Grabbing you by your blazer lapels, Ren pulled you closer, forcing your hand to come up to grip his arms. Your beloved datapad fell to the floor, the sound only enunciating his anger and pushing fear up your throat, effectively silencing you.  
“What was I thinking? Why would Hux’s little plaything know anything important,” he huffed, only pulling you closer to his mask.  
Fortunately, being aggressed by a Commander did not trump your ego, and the bile rising in your throat disappeared, leaving you able to speak once again. And speak you did. “Who are you to call me Hux’s, Hux’s plaything!” You spat, glaring directly into his eyeholes, or where you thought his eyes would be. He’s probably mutilated. He probably doesn’t even have any eyes. You let only your thoughts betray the smirk that your physical features deemed inappropriate for the situation. Probably for the best.  
“I am the one who has to clean up all your messes Commander. This ship wouldn’t run without me.” You glared harder and if looks could kill, Ren would be ashes by now.  
Wait. The Troopers!  
“What was that?” Ren growled, shoving you against the only wall that remained intact in the room.  
“I said this ship wouldn’t ru-”  
“The Stormtroopers. What about them.” The breathing began to intensify behind his mask as he pressed you harder into the wall and pressed his leg in between yours.  
“I didn’t say anything about Stormtroopers!”  
“Quiet your thoughts if you don’t want people hearing them, girl.” And with that, a sharp pain burst through your skull. It felt like someone was ripping your hemispheres apart, mending them with hot glue, and then ripping them apart again. The pain told you what was happening. Hux had informed you of Ren’s violating uses of the force once you accepted your second position should you ever encounter him. Scrunching your eyes shut, a scream ripped out of your throat as he searched for what he wanted. The pain was excruciating. It was worse than the time you broke your head open falling out of a tree as a child, and it was worse than the cluster headaches you endure every time you get too stressed.  
Another growl was emitted from the bucket that was currently digging through your thoughts. “I don’t care about your headaches!”  
He began to only press harder into your thoughts and the pain only grew worse. Think, (Y/N), think!  
Thankfully you were able to redirect him into the quadrant of memories holding all of your budget planning sessions and many, many graphs that you wish you could forget. Get out of my head you cowardly bucket!  
Apparently the insult worked as you felt him rip away from you, causing the ground to come rushing towards you and gracefully, you fell on your butt. “How did you do that?” Ren backed away from you like you were Jabba the Hutt reincarnated.  
“How did I do what?” Groaning you rubbed your hips as he stared at you. Although he didn’t stick around to hear your answer, which you thought was stupid because he was the one who wanted it in the first place. Ren spun around and stalked out of the room, lit his lightsaber, and stalked off down the west wing.  
You knew you were force sensitive. Your mother had been and so had your grandmother. Although you weren’t a Jedi Master, you were able to utilize it enough to keep that monster out of your brain. But he didn’t seem to know that and you decided you were going to use that to your advantage if he ever pinned you up against a wall again. Hopefully he wouldn’t.  
Your legs shook beneath you as you pulled yourself up from the cold, tile floor. Well this could’ve been worse. Much worse. I could be dead. But then who would clean up? You glanced around the room, let out the biggest sigh you had all week, picked up your datapad and walked out. You were done today. It’s past 1600, Octaiva is probably waiting.  
\------  
The gray slop dripping from your spoon was not appetizing at all. In fact, it almost made you nauseous at the thought of consuming it. “Wait, (Y/N). You sassed the Commander? He could’ve killed you!”  
Octavia was not seemingly pleased with how you described your meeting with Ren today, although she’s always been generally protective over you, using the excuse that you were basically her little sister.  
Her family was killed in an explosion during the first war, orphaning her. She found solace and purpose in the First Order when she was at her weakest and clung to you as if you were her life line. Not that you minded. “Yes but he was being the rude one! He tried to read my mind. And all for that grimy little prisoner girl.”  
“From what it sounds like, (Y/N), you helped her escape.” She replied timidly, seemingly afraid of your reaction to the suggestion.  
“I did not! I was just joking..” Trailing off, you realized she was right. You had told Rey to ask a Trooper, no matter how sarcastic you were being at the time. “I’m sure she would’ve figured it out on her own anyway.”  
“Whatever you say. You should probably start heading to bed now (N/N). It seems like you’ve had an overly exciting day.” She said, letting a smirk cross her features.  
Oh Octavia, always one to put others before her. Wait, that was totally malicious!  
She flipped her dark ponytail behind her shoulder and rose to throw her left over gray sludge away. Following her, the two of you walked back to your quarters. “You know the Lieutenant changed his hair part. I think he looks much bolder with it parted to the left than the right.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I'm kinda on fire with the updates, like not to flex or anything, buuuuut

Trees. Grass. Wind. Water, trapped far beneath the earth just waiting to burst free from the sediment which encased it. The trees whispering wise riddles and advice gathered from centuries of standing and watching. Wind swirling, carrying messages and spreading new life throughout the jungle you called home. Nature always whispered to you. Through your toes you sucked up the grass’s muttering. The wildflowers impressed you with their secrets and young thoughts; the trees acting as the elders you never had.  
Peacefully, you lied under the leaves, listening to the beings around you. You knew that other girls your age weren't able to hear them and you felt truly sorry for them. A life without these abilities just simply sounded boring and you were not interested. Often you craved adventure and excitement on your moon and the force provided as much of that as it could, but it was never enough to satisfy your young mind. You will never be truly satisfied.  
Oh to be a tree. Or a youthful blossom. Even at the age of twelve, you felt as though you were an old soul. The trees would fill your mind with thoughts of the galaxy before the great wars, only convincing you further of the fact. They enjoyed telling you stories of a planet called Naboo that you had heard about from your father during your bedtime stories. Stories about the massive mountains and the royal castles. A queen that treated her citizens with only humility and gave her life for her children. You always admired her bravery. The serenity can’t last forever, the leafy elders would tell you as the first war came and decimated the planet’s climate, making it uninhabitable. No matter how brief the trees spoke about the planet they would always tell you about the downfall. It will build up your bark, (Y/N). Disappointment. Sadness. It would all make you stronger in the end.  
Of course the loyal grasses would soak up your tears and whisper sweet comforts to you, carried along through the forest by the wind. Although, you always knew all good things must come to an end and perhaps that's why you grew up to be so bitter. Oh how the wildflowers would eagerly drift away from the darkness you carried today.  
This dream has come multiple times, and It too will end, just like everything else did. It was almost cruel for your mind to replay it so many times.  
Eventually your alarm would blair and it would be time to repeat the day before. So you cherished your dream. Soaking up the sun shining through the trees, listening to the wind’s messages. To say it was your happy place was an understatement. No pencil skirt, no Hux, no Ren, just you in your younger body in her favorite spot.  
All good comes to an end. Octavia often wished you were more positive, and you had considered attempting to change your mindset a few times. If that woman could be chipper, why couldn’t you? Your childhood back on Yavin encountered much less misfortune than hers. But with how much evil you faced everyday, you just weren’t strong enough.  
You rose from your bed, and pushed your quilts back into place. Perhaps this day would be a little more exciting than usual, the events from the end of your day flooding your mind’s eye as you tried to rub the sleep away from your eyes. Did you even want it to be if he’s the cause?  
The floor was chilly as you made your way to the refresher. Maybe I’ll use a surplus to install heating floors. No that’s not legal... Is it? Your shower in the refresher was already nicer than it ought to be. It was your favorite part of the morning, so you took pride in having it upgraded to only the finest fixtures. Detachable shower head, a larger than necessary water heater, and a large soaking tub embodying the essence of relaxation. You let out a moan as the warm water hit your back and hair. The shampoo you used was only the finest in the galaxy, containing gold flakes and whole peonies with a matching conditioner. Peonies and lavender. There was a reason you wanted to keep your job.  
Occasionally you wondered if your shower was worth getting out of bed half an hour early for. The warm (some would say scalding) water quickly drowned that pondering, however as soon as you stepped in. Humming, you ran your fingers through your locks, mentally going over your schedule. Let’s see. Hux has a meeting at ten today, so I have to prep that, yuck. I think he said he wants some files reorganized in his office? Oh and I have to present the budget overages from yesterday’s tantrum. Double yuck.  
Once you decided you were clean enough to start your day, you stepped out of your oasis and back into your quarters. An identical black skirt was slipped on, a crisp, white, chiffon blouse tucked neatly in, and a freshly laundered black First Order blazer graced your shoulders. Deciding to test Hux’s uniform waters, he was so particular, you cuffed the sleeves of your blazer. I wonder if Octavia has a spare hair tie.  
\------  
“(Y/N), I can smell your shampoo from here. Where do you get that stuff from?” Octavia wrinkled her nose as she popped a piece of muffin into her plump lips.  
“I hope that’s a compliment, Tave. This is my custom scent after all.”  
Once a month, a bottle of your shampoo and conditioner would be delivered to you from an artisan somewhere in the galaxy, you didn’t care to find out where. It was your favorite day of the month, and dammit you were going to use the stuff until you died. “You know I kid, (N/N). Only the best for the Lieutenant, right?”  
“But of course. Who else do I have to seduce, Hux? Ren? Done, and never.”  
Octavia let out a giggle, fully knowing the General’s often inappropriate words and advanced directed towards you. Truthfully, you didn’t mind. It kept you on your toes and your libito fresh. It was a bit of a game of cat and mouse.  
Another bit of gray sludge made its way to your stomach as the canteen door burst open, an enthusiastic officer making his way over to you. “Good morning (Y/N), Octavia.” He nodded at the latter, letting his eyes linger a little too long for “just a friend”.  
Quinn had been on the ship longer than the both of you and worked beside Captain Phasma. Those two were the only Troopers you had actual respect for. One time you invited Phasma to a “girl’s night” with Tave and you all got wine drunk together. It was legendary.  
Quinn also happens to have a thing for your best friend. However, her ex-boyfriend had died in battle and ever since she’s been overly cautious about dating and blew him off multiple times in the past. Octavia was quite attractive, what with her bright, blue eyes and long, dark hair, she had a certain mystique that drew many men to her. What an ability to have.  
Quinn quickly got his sludge, slipped into the bench beside you, and began chattering away about his evening. “This one recruit decided it would be a good idea to haze a cadet! He had to be cut down from the ceiling, they taped him up there with some weird techno technician tape. It was one in the morning.” He rubbed his hand across his eyes, only enunciating the bags under them.  
“Don’t give (N/N) any ideas, Quinn. You know how much she dislikes your Troopers.”  
The Captain stole a glance only to see you shrug in response. “I will neither confirm nor deny that accusation. For now, I have to go organize files for two hours. See you guys later.” You threw away the rest of your breakfast, waved at the two and began the walk to the Command center.  
\-----  
“Good morning Lieutenant.”  
“Good morning (Y/N), you know I told you to call me Dolphed.”  
“I know, but Lieutenant is so much more exciting.” He let out a chuckle.  
“I’ve actually been meaning to ask you some-” Mitaka was cut off by the Command Center’s doors being smashed open and heavy footsteps demanding the room’s attention. Oh boy.  
Out of the corner of your eye you saw your lieutenant straighten up with his face going completely blank. Turning away from him, you were met with a familiar metallic mask and cowl, coming right for you. Is this it? Am I going to die today? I can’t I have so much to live for-  
Your mantra was interrupted by Ren roughly shoving you into Mitaka as he moved unnecessarily close to you to get to Hux. “Ren, won’t you be careful with my staff?” The neat general was met with silence as the Commander came to a stop before him.  
“I’ve spoken with the Supreme Leader and he believes it’s time for you to check in on the Supremacy. The Girl will remain here with me. You’re to leave within the next hour.”  
As you processed the information just given, you stood staring at the shrouded man in a way that would probably offend most, your jaw dropped and a revolted look in your eyes. Normally, you would accompany Hux on his trips to the Supremacy, being his personal assistant and all, so when Ren said you were to stay with him, you were the one offended. “But sir, shouldn’t I accom-”  
“Enough. It’s the Supreme Leader’s orders. You are to report to me while he is gone.”  
Bile was threatening to escape your lips at the thought of spending more time with the man who could read your mind than you already had in the past few days. And if he interrupts me one more time I’ll-  
“You’ll what, officer?” Invisible hands gripped your throat, quickly and effectively cutting off your air supply.  
“Ren, leave her alone.” Hux hissed from beside him as you clawed at the force holding your throat.  
He growled and stared you down before releasing you. Thankfully, Mitaka caught you as you collapsed, mind blank, slowly placing you back on your feet.  
“You are to report to me. That is final.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "I" during the messages part stands for initial.  
> Do you guys like the whole Mitaka trope? I love him and find that people don't include him much in different works :(

“General, are you certain I can’t go with you? Who will take notes in the meetings and keep track of your schedule and-” 

“(Y/N), unfortunately this is the Supreme Leader’s wishes and I cannot disobey him, no matter how much I don’t want to hand you over to that, that  _ savage. _ ” Hux grimaced and released the piece of your hair he had been toying with. 

“If I perish, sir, please promote Octavia and Quinn. That is my dying wish.” You feigned a fainting spell with a dramatic, soft hand pressed to your forehead. 

Hux knew you were being dramatic but decided to play along, for your sake. “You know I would do anything for you, darling.” 

You giggled and handed him his datapad as a departure notification pinged. “It seems you must leave if you are to be on time.” 

Taking the tablet from you, he shook his head, smirked, and turned to board the ship. Seeing the General leave meant you were stuck with the Commander for the next week at  _ least _ . If someone had told you that you would be in this position a few days ago, you would’ve laughed in their face. Yeah right. I’ve never even met the Commander, much less be  _ his  _ personal assistant; but look at you now. You were officially Ren’s bitch, and although you didn’t necessarily mind being Hux’s, this just had a different ring to it; one you didn’t like. 

Sighing, you watched Hux’s shuttle fly off towards another system, most likely readying itself to make the jump into hyperspace. Oh, how you long to be on that ship, watching the pilots flip switches and muttering clearance codes and criticizing their every move. They hated you. Perhaps Snoke has received too many complaints from his shuttle pilots and that’s why he was assigning you to your death. 

Snapping out of your reverie, you decided that you would actually try to accomplish something to take your mind off of your predicament. At least until his highness called upon you, so you began your trek to your small office on the fifth floor, the east wing of the Starkiller, determined to be productive. Up the third hall, the second left, up the stairs. It was a mundane enough path, one that you had made many times from the pilot’s deck and you had confidence to answer when your datapad pinged a notification. Glancing down, you saw it was from dearest Tave. 

O: Hey, grab some wine when you're done with your work tonight, I need a drink. 

I: What happened? 

O: Ugh just a rude intern. Looks like it’s time for some blood to be spilled amongst the engineers. What do you think?

I: I’ll hold them down. 

You let out a giggle at your messages. Poor Tave had to deal with the engineering interns. Although you were once an intern, you understood how annoying they could be and were sure you were just as bad at one point. 

Suddenly, as you were too sucked up in intern memories, you happened to bump into a soft, but firm, chest. They grabbed your shoulders to steady you before you could completely make a fool out of yourself thankfully, and you glanced up to see who you were about to apologize to. “Lieutenant! I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking,” You painted a smile across your face as you glanced up at the man from under your lashes. 

“It’s quite alright (Y/N), I was actually just looking for you. You weren’t in your office, so I figured you were still seeing the General off. Sorry about that by the way. The whole being left here with the Commander thing. Speaking of that, how’s your throat? I couldn’t really catch you on your way to the medbay,” Your smile widened at his ramblings and at the fact that his hands were still grasping your arms. 

Yes you had visited the medbay after the whole choking outburst. You had an appearance to keep up, and you were not going to have that impacted by some silly bruises, so they had given you some bacta-gel, some advice not to talk back to the Commander, and sent you on your way. 

As you shifted the datapad and folder on your hip, Mitaka had finally realized that he was still holding you and a pink flush quickly made an appearance, curling around his pale neck and cheeks. “It’s feeling better already, don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I’ll be fine, probably.” You responded ominously, not feeling all that confident in your answer. 

He visibly flinched before he spoke again, “I'm glad that you are feeling better. I wanted to ask you though, if you maybe wanted to get dinner with me tonight in the Officer’s Commons?”

Of course the higher ranking officials had their own eatery, that was common knowledge. However, Octavia, you and Quinn, decided you didn’t want the pressure of that after a long day and tended to stick with just the normal canteen. Sometimes you definitely questioned the decision, especially while staring down at the grey sludge. But Mitaka had just asked you on a date! At least you thought it was a date. Plus you could snag a bottle of wine afterwards for Tave. It really was the perfect night. “Of course, Lieutenant, I would love to,” your smile widened, if that was even possible at this point. “I’ll be in my office until around 1800 tonight. Would you like to meet me there?”

He was beaming at this point. “I’ll see you then.”

“Okay, see you then,” you giggled, leaned up to press a kiss on his cheek, and resumed your walk to your office. How exciting, you thought as you began another message to Octavia. 

I: You’ll never guess what just happened.

\------

1800 came, and with it brought your lovely Mitaka. You had just finished your work a couple minutes ago and was ending a holo conference with Hux. He had arrived at the Supremacy with only only one meteor shower causing trouble on the way. You had just given him the ship’s stats and today’s budget rundowns as Mitaka walked in. “It seems that I have to be going for now General. Is there anything else you needed?”

“No, thank you (Y/N). Have a goodnight.”

“You too General.”

You hung up the call and stood from your chair, stacking a file on top of your ‘to be completed’ stack, and walked around your desk. “Hey Lieutenant! I trust the rest of your day went smoothly?” You started conversation as the two of you left your office. 

“It did. It almost seems as though the General makes my job harder sometimes.” 

You hummed in agreement at his statement. He truly did. You were just lucky that Hux liked you, otherwise you would probably hate your life. You could only imagine what Mitaka goes through on a daily basis, especially because he encounters Ren more frequently than you do. Although, that may be on course to change in the next week. 

The two of you arrived at the Officer’s Commons and ate a lovely meal together. Topics regarding missions, that weren’t sensitive of course, your apprehension about Ren, he asked about your neck again, and careers flew easily between the two of you. It was as if you had known each other for much longer than you had. You had truly enjoyed yourself. However, all good things must come to an end. As you were getting ready to say goodnight and snag a bottle of wine, you had told him about your plans with Octavia tonight, a kitchen service droid came rolling up to you. Raising your eyebrow you turned to face it as it spoke to you, “Kylo Ren has requested that you are to bring him his dinner tonight.”

You blanched at order. “Me? Are you sure?” 

“You are (Y/F/N), correct?” 

“Unfortunately.” The droid did not show any signs of amusement as it handed you the covered plate. 

“His quarter’s coordinates are already programmed into your datapad. I’d suggest you hurry.”

Sighing, you grabbed the plate from the droid’s outstretched arms and turned to face Mitaka. “I guess that’s my cue. I had a lot of fun tonight, thank you.” You flashed him a smile, pressed a chaste peck on his cheek and turned to head out to your doom. 

\------

It had taken you thirty minutes to finally come upon Ren’s quarters. Far longer than he was probably happy about, but you had gotten all turned around and not wanting to admit that maybe you didn’t know the entire ship all that well, you chalked it up to nerves. 

There you stood, outside of the Knight of Ren’s quarters, plate in hand, wondering if you should knock or not, and just as you raised your free fist, the hatch slid open to reveals a darkly shrouded room, the only source of light coming from behind a door and from the large glass window that gave him a lovely view out into space. “Commander, sir? I have the dinner that you requested,” you announced as you glanced around the room, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the darkness just a little faster. “Sir?” 

The sound of something solid and metal hitting the floor was heard before heavy footsteps began to trudge towards you. Gloved hands soon grabbed the plate from you and unfiltered “come” was ordered. Finally, your eyes had adjusted enough to be able to follow him through his quarters to a metal table on the other side of the room. “Sir, if I may, why did you have me deliver your dinner? Do service droids not do that?” 

You only earned a grunt in response along with a gesture for you to take a seat in the chair across from him. Even though you didn’t really  _ want _ to sit, you also didn’t want to get choked out again. Ren swallowed a piece of steamed broccoli before finally looking up at you. His features were truly stunning. Thick, black hair hung just above his shoulders, framing his jawline nicely. Deep brown, black in the lack of light, eyes staring at you as you examined his newly exposed features. Plump, pink lips rested against pale skin decorated with freckles and moles. Truly, he was gorgeous. So gorgeous, it threw you off your game for a second. A small smirk appeared on those lips as he seemed to follow your train of thoughts, before he asked you the most dreaded question probably of your whole career: “How long have you been force-sensitive?”


	5. Chapter 5

You sat there, vulnerable in front of the Commander, quite literally shaking in your shoes. You know he can tell you’re nervous; he isn’t stupid, after all. “I’m sorry sir, force sensitive? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You replied cautiously, keeping your eyes pointed down towards the table metal table.

“Don’t play dumb with me. How long?” 

Ren had you cornered at this point, as if you were his prey. You had always thought of yourself as the quiet predator who lies in wait for their next victim and you were not going to let this _big baby_ change that. “I _truly_ do not know what you’re talking about, sir. I only have the most rudimentary knowledge of the force. Certainly not enough to even be _considere_ d a force user.” Smoothly, you responded to the allegation, feeling somewhat confident in your answer. 

That feeling did not last more than two seconds, however, because in the time it took you to register his movement, Ren had you pinned against the wall, supporting you by gripping your lapels. His breathing was labored, his gloved fists growing tighter and tighter as his anger levels rose. You stared up at him, trying to convince him you were telling the truth. Ren glared back at you, and if looks could kill, you would most certainly be ash. “Do you take me for a fool? Do you think just anyone can just force me out of their head? I am the most feared man in the galaxy. What makes you think that you, a lowly _personal assistant,”_ he spoke your title as if it were dirt in his mouth and took an uncontrolled breath before continuing, “could ever overpower _me_?” 

You knew better than to answer his questions; they were meant to instill fear in you; meant to intimidate you into confessing. Your father didn’t raise a coward, and maybe you are a fool, but if you're to die by his hand, you will _not_ die a coward. Raising your eyes back to his, you furrowed your brows and glared back at the unstable man that was currently holding you off the ground by your blazer and could behead you any second. “Sir, I never meant to do _anything_ to antagonize you. I do _aplogi-_ ” 

Ren cut you off by grabbing a hold of and squeezing your jaw and cheeks, while shoving his knee between your legs, looking down at you as if you were the scum on the bottom of his boot, which only served to make you angrier the longer he continued. _The audacity!_ You did nothing to deserve this treatment, pushing him out of your mind and protecting your thoughts was no crime. 

The feeling of his breath against your neck sent a shiver down your spine as you felt the cool metal of his lightsaber brush against your leg. “You will not lie to me. Next time I will require the truth or I will be forced to make you pay for your disobedience.” He threatened quietly, leaning down to your ear and brushing against it softly with his lips. “I expect my dinner to be brought here by you every evening.” 

You shivered again as he took a deep breath in. What were you supposed to do now that nightly visits were your fate? Throw yourself off the flight deck? Jump for joy? The former was honestly the quite appealing option at this point.

Ren soon decided that he had scared you enough and released you to fall to the floor. Stumbling, you straightened out your lapels and your posture while the Commander watched you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before stalking away into that side room with the white light seeping out from behind the metal hatch. You tried to get a peak, curiosity did kill the cat after all, or in this case, will probably kill you, but he had already closed the hatch before you got a good look. Of course you didn’t linger, mind reeling from the encounter and wanting to leave as soon as possible.

Your ear still tingled where his lips brushed as you walked back to your quarters, the thought of your bed becoming more and more inviting with each step. The cold, industrial hallways of the Starkiller offered little to no comfort to your grief, although neither will your measly quarters. They were nice enough, a good sized bed in one room with your prized bath and shower in the refresher, but you did need to invest in a better quilt, if only a slightly warmer one. You often relished the nights when you and Octavia fell asleep in the same bed, usually after drinking or talking so late into the night that you _feared_ walking the three meters to your quarters. Hux’s uniform choice made sure to keep you cold and you often asked for a change. He denied it of course, thinking this was “more professional”. Your hands were almost always cold and sometimes even your nose was red and chilly to the touch. Once again you were back to debating if this job was worth it. 

Knocking on the metal, you entered the password to your best friend’s quarters. You needed to spill to someone and no one could keep a secret better than Tave. “Octavia? Where are you?” You called out into the dim room, not noticing her right away. 

Only receiving a grunt in response, you made your way over to the bed where you saw her curled up, already in her sleeping attire. “What happened? I thought we were going to drink together tonight,” Gently, you sat next to her on the bed, leaning against her head board. 

“You didn’t come,” she muttered into the pillow, “I figured it had something to do with the Commander, so I drank by myself.” You sighed upon hearing her answer. 

“He ordered me to bring him his dinner. When I finally found the place and delivered his meal, he had me sit down and then promptly, and quite rudely might I add, questioned me about my force sensitivity. When I told him I had no idea what he was talking about, he pressed me up against the wall and demanded I answer. Octavia, he was so close to me, it was crazy!” You threw your hands up and let them fall to emphasize your point. “I thought that was it for me. And then, he demanded I bring him his dinner for the rest of the week. Do you have any wine left?” Octavia remained silent, but you could feel the empathy rolling off of her. You knew she knew how much you dreaded taking your second position and how much you _didn’t_ want to encounter the Commander and she could only imagine being in your position. 

Pushing yourself off the bed, you made your way over to her dresser where she had an extra glass out for you. You stared at the glass for a second before just deciding on taking the bottle. Tave watched from her blanket cocoon and let out a small giggle at your actions. Her wine was beginning to wear off and you didn’t doubt she felt nauseous. Careful not to spill, you climbed back into her bed and took a first sip from the wine bottle. Bitter red, most likely from some city on Coruscant, cheap. 

You finished the bottle in record time and slumped into the bed beside Tave, who at this point was almost unconscious. The memories of earlier didn’t cease to rise to the front of your mind however, and you were undeniably frustrated, and the thought of making the trek back to your quarters was repulsive, your skin becoming peppered with goose flesh at the thought. Of course, this was a common theme after wine, so you placed the empty bottle on Tave’s end table, took out the clip that was just barely hanging onto your hair, and infiltrated Octavia’s cocoon. 

\------

_The trees were whispering. Why were they whispering? They always spoke clearly. The grass whispers. Your wildflower ladies were ripe with uncertainty. The wind was still. Something was awry, disturbing your peaceful oak savannah. Standing up, you felt your toes against the earth, and the wind picked up slightly around you, pushing you towards a patch of shadows casted by broad leaves and whispering anxiously, conveying the feelings of the entire meadow. You squinited as you made your way slowly towards the shadows, the unusual negativity slowing you down greatly, along with the large, pink, chiffon gown you donned. A figure appeared as you closed in upon the shadows. They were sitting in the tall grass, shrouded in black, broad shoulders relaxed, and legs crossed. Instantly you knew who it was. “What are you doing here?”_

_This was your dream,_ your _dream. Formalities were not necessary._

_“I did not come willingly. You brought me here.” He spoke quietly, almost faded._

_“I don’t understand.”_

_“A force connection had been formed. That is the only way this would’ve been possible. I knew you were strong with the force but I wasn’t aware of your full abilities.” He opened his eyes as he looked up at you from his place in the grass. Only clad in his black under clothes, he looked much less menacing._

_You crossed your arms and stepped closer to him, before taking a seat directly across from him, legs touching._

_“I do not want you here. This place is pure and dear to me and I will not have you ruining that.” You scowled as a small smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth._

_“I did not come here (Y/N). You brought me here.”_

_“Stop saying that! It’s not true. It’s not possible.”_

_“With a force connection it is. Now I will no longer have to coerce the truth out of you. This is much easier.”_

_Your scowl deepened as you laid a hand on his knee. He didn’t glitch or cut out, he wasn’t a hologram. He didn’t instantly evaporate, he was solid and warm against your hand._

_Ren reached a hand out and grabbed a piece of your hair, similarly to how Hux had done before he left, and twirled it in his large hand. A peaceful expression replaced the arrogant smirk he had donned only moments ago. “Flowers. You smell of flowers.” He muttered, closing his eyes._

_You were shocked. He not only infiltrated your dreams, but was now thoroughly messing with your mind and feelings. That is the only plausible reason for the blush that was blooming on your cheeks as he twirled your hair. “Peonies and Lavender.” You supplied, searching his ideas for any reaction._

_“Ah, of course.” Gently, he grabbed your hand in his unoccupied one and drew circles with his thumb on the back. “Perfect.”_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh it's getting good now... I once again forget what to say...
> 
> Please drop a comment I love to read them for feedback hehe <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm I can't decide if I want you to remember the dream right away or make you not remember it due to *alcohol*   
> :)  
> Chose your own adventure down in the comments ahaha ;)

“(Y/N), wake up, we’re going to be late!” Octavia’s voice pulled you out of your slumber by harshly throwing a pillow at your head.  _ Quite the wake up call,  _ you thought miserably, your head pounding with regret. 

“What time is it?” Groaning, you rolled over to the edge of the bed with the intention to get up. You felt like vomiting, the wine had come back to haunt you and even though you expected it, you never thought to take come bacta pills before falling asleep.

“0700, (Y/N). Get up!” Tave was bustling around her room, already dressed and gathering her things to start the day. 

“What? Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?!” You sprung up out of the bed, fully aware that you were most likely going to be late. Your movement was ill advised however, as you immediately felt bile rising. 

“I’ve been trying to, but you wouldn’t get up.” She threw a glance that a disappointed mother would give their child, one that you had been on the receiving end of many times. “I have to go, you should probably go get dressed.” Tave gave you one last fleeting glance before closing the hatch.

You sighed, crawled over to the refresher and promptly threw up. The toilet was cold against your arms and did nothing to calm your shivers, only pulling you further and further away from the state of slumber you wished would embrace you again. With no time to take your shower, you walked back to your quarters, threw your hair into a loose bun, pulled on a fresh uniform and with no one to report to, at least you  _ assumed _ the Commander would not want to see you this early in the morning, you started towards your office. 

“(Y/N), good morning.” A soft voice cut through your thoughts and although Mitaka was not overly loud, it still rattled your poor, aching skull. 

“Good morning Lieutenant. How did you sleep?” A forced smile greeted him as he fell into step beside you. 

“Just fine, thank you. Pardon my asking, but what happened with the Commander last night? I mean obviously you’re not dead, thank the gods, but you looked pretty rattled walking out of the commons.” You let out a small laugh at his concern and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I brought him his dinner and he asked me to sit with him, which I thought was a little odd, but I stayed. Then, he asked me to bring him his evening meal for the _ rest of the week _ . It’s quite annoying if you ask me.” He agreed with you before a shutter ripped up your spine and you stilled, sensing approaching doom. 

“(Y/N)? Are you alright?” 

Heavy footsteps could be heard rounding the corner as the Commander stalked over to you, looking more angsty than usual and you feared for the ship’s damage recovery budget. “If you think my requests are “ _ annoying” _ , (Y/L/N), then I will make sure to inform Hux and he can act accordingly.” You knew he was threatening you, but you didn’t shrink back. Even though you’ve seen the things this man can and will destroy, you’ve seen him vulnerable and you were less inclined to be intimidated when he hid behind his helmet. Only a coward would hide behind a bucket.

Meanwhile Mitaka was sweating beside you, standing stick straight and staring ahead down the hallway, avoiding even glancing at the Commander. 

You didn’t say anything as Ren glared you down, staring right back up at him. You were not about to give in when you’ve come this far. Might as well own your insult. Ren let out a filtered growl and broke off your staring game. “It would be in your best interest to  _ stop projecting.”  _ He brushed past you, checking your shoulder, and grabbed your wrist to drag you behind him. Mitaka turned and watched as you threw a desperate look over your shoulder, but all he could do was plaster a sympathetic look on his soft face. Sighing, you decided to stop resisting,  _ just this once _ , and let the Commander drag you down the hall. 

“Where are we going, sir?” Quietly, you questioned his directions, not wanting his grip to tighten anymore than it already was. 

“We are going to check on the progress of the engineers on my Command Shuttle,” He answered vaguely, slowing his wide footsteps a small amount, allotting you to not have to almost  _ run _ to keep up with him. 

The Command Shuttle. Where had you heard that name from? Ah! Octavia had mentioned it more than a couple times while complaining at dinner. You and Quinn enjoyed listening to her gossip as the fresher engineers were quite the drama queens apparently. Excitement replaced your previous apprehension at the thought of seeing Octavia in her natural habitat, your headache almost completely forgotten. You had always wanted to visit your best friend during work, but Hux didn’t often visit the flight deck and maintenance hangers, therefore neither did you. “ _ Please  _ try to contain your excitement, Officer. We will not be there to dawdle.” 

Although he had just shot down your plans on having any sort of lengthy conversation with Octavia, you could not help but be almost bursting at the seams. A chance to see the Command Shuttle in any manner was an opportunity you could only  _ hope _ for in your position. The walk was silent after that as you decided you would attempt to build a wall around your mind. He  _ had  _ said he wanted you to contain yourself and there was no better way to keep him out than a fresh and new brick wall encasing your thoughts and feelings. 

When you arrived in the hangar, you were surprised to see the amount of people bustling around, talking to colleagues, and working on a variety of different aircrafts. The two of you, he had now let go of you knowing you would follow him, made your way through the crowd, which wasn’t very difficult as the workers parted like the Red Sea around you, fear forcing them out of your way. You could see why of course, Ren was not necessarily a _sunny_ _person_. The Command Shuttle was stationed on the far end of the hangar, a pep in your step as you made your way over. This environment was much more exciting than your lonely office, or Hux’s lonely office, or the Command Center. You’re sure these people _actually_ felt that they were contributing to the First Order, not just sitting at a glass desk reconfiguring the same budgets everyday. 

The Command Shuttle was growing in size the closer you got to it and it was quickly becoming more and more intimidating the closer you got. At least five engineers were monitoring, adjusting, and rebuilding things all around the ship with Octavia at the head holding a clipboard, ordering her engineers around. She hadn’t noticed you yet, but she was positively glowing, her long dark hair braided and resting neatly against her back. Her uniform was pressed to even Hux’s standard of neat and a kind smile ghosted across her lips as one of her engineers seemed to complete a task successfully. She finally seemed to sense a disturbance in her area as she turned around to meet the Commander. “Good morning sir. What can I do for you?” Tave understandably shrunk back as she greeted Ren.

Realizing you were most likely hidden behind his muscular frame,  _ I just know he has abs under that armor _ , you stepped out from behind him and into Octavia’s sightline. She clearly was attempting to suppress a smile as she glanced over to you, trying to remain professional in front of the Commander that could kill her in a second flat. “I’m here to check on the repairs to my Command Shuttle.” Ren stated his business before walking past her towards the ship. 

The engineers scattered as they saw the black mass approaching and you planted yourself to the spot he left you in, playing the role of the good dog for a little while. Tave had wandered over to you by now, wrapping her arm around your waist in greeting. “So he’s really dragging you around all day?” She raised an eyebrow at you. 

“Unfortunately. He  _ actually  _ dragged me here. I was just chatting with the Lieutenant, that new hair parting is really working for him by the way,” Tave snorted at your observation before letting you continue, “he showed up right as I had just called him annoying, grabbed my wrist and started dragging me over here. Of course I had no choice but to follow. Kriff, my karma must be awful,” You frowned and crossed your arms, watching her face morph into an amused faux frown. 

The two of you had been chatting for about ten minutes by the time Ren made his way back to you. In his wake, he had left a terrified engineer who had gotten chewed out due to a, most likely, small inconvenience, which caused Tave to become a little upset. Only  _ she  _ could yell at her engineers.  _ What a brave soul.  _ You had noticed the miniscule shift in her demeanor, something that _ only you _ would probably notice. “Commander, I trust everything is up to your standards?” She forced a smile up at him, her grip tightening on her datapad. 

He only spared her a grunt, no doubt seeing into her thoughts and knowing that she was angry with him, but luckily, he didn’t appear to care. Ren then turned his attention to you, meeting your gaze. “Send an update to the General. He will want to know the Command Shuttle is almost repaired.” You had no idea why Hux would  _ care _ that his ship was almost done, but you began typing on your datapad anyway. “I expect it to be fully functional by the time he returns from the Supremacy.” Tave’s eye twitched slightly before acknowledging the order and went back to directing her engineers. 

Throwing one last wave at her, you followed him out of the hanger. “She was angry. Your presence seemed to calm her. You have quite the power over her.”  _ What’s this?!  _ The dark, scary, and all powerful Commander Kylo Ren making conversation with you? A lowly Personal Assistant and Kylo Ren’s Personal Maintenance Technician? How unexpected! 

“I do not consider it a power over her, sir. She does the same thing for me. We are best friends and have been for years, I would expect nothing less.” You huffed, trying to keep up with him. He was not as gracious with his pace as he was on the way to the hanger. 

Of course you knew that Ren didn’t have a family or any friends. You figured he wouldn’t be the way he was if he wasn’t. Snoke wants to keep him as far deep into the dark side as he can, and not permitting any sort of positive relationship in any way was one of his most favorite ways to do this, his second was probably reinforcing Ren’s beliefs that his parents hated him. A powerful thing, hatred was. 

The Commander had slowed down by now and was staring at you from the corner of his helmet, you could feel his dark eyes on you. “What are you thinking about?” 

_ Ha, the wall is working! _ You let a proud smirk creep out across your features, happy that you were finally able to keep him out, even if he wasn’t trying at all; your wall likely would not stand up to him next time he decided to probe you. “Just budgets sir.” 

He didn’t believe you, unsurprisingly. You wouldn’t believe you either, and luckily he didn’t press the question any further. The Commander was oddly calm and it was only making  _ you  _ nervous. Nothing had gone horribly wrong or gotten deadly yet today, other than him hearing you insult him to Mitaka this morning. Although it  _ was _ only noon, you had the rest of the day to clean up a tantrum, and however much you didn’t like it, it was better than just sitting at your desk all day. Now with Hux gone, your days have and they  _ will _ continue to become more and more boring. Living through this week has become the new bane of your existence. 

It seems Ren is walking you back to your office, you had noticed. Passing the same set of bay windows and the same hallway leading The Lair that you visited multiple times a day. Sometimes their caffeine just impacted you differently, and you had made a couple intern friends that were more than willing to talk to the cool PA. Although, you did find it a little odd that he was being such a  _ gentleman _ after being so hostile towards you every other time you had encountered him. The knots that were forming in your gut only supported the notion that your impending doom was just around the corner, both literally and metaphorically as you turned the last corner, with your small office at the end of the hallway. Sometimes you thought that Hux had just had a closet converted for you, but you were grateful to have your own space nonetheless. It was big enough for a decent sized desk, a couple chairs on the other side for company, and a large window, with enough room left over for a couple bookcases that housed your exotic plants from a few different planets you have touched down on on missions, a small coffee maker, and a couple books that almost seemed like afterthoughts. It was cozy and you had easily grown attached to the space. 

You stepped out in front of him to open the door, expecting him to just turn around go do whatever Kylo Ren does and when he followed you into the room, you almost dropped your datapad when you turned around. “Is there anything else I can help you with sir?” All that answered you was a couple of seconds of modulated breathing before he ripped off his mask and threw it to the floor, a fiery look in his molten eyes. 

_ No. Kriff, please, not my office.  _ Fear was now radiating off of you as you backed up against the wall, unsure of his next move as you tried to eliminate striking points. His gloved fists clenched, making the leather protest as he just stood there seething. Finally, he spoke: “I do not understand why I cannot read your thoughts. Your  _ friend’s _ were so easy I simply overheard them. I am aware you’re force sensitive, but  _ why _ .” He ran a hand through his silky black hair and began pacing behind the two chairs. 

“I’m not sure,” your voice was quiet as you considered telling him you had intentionally constructed a wall to keep him out, you hadn’t thought it was that strong, however. 

Suddenly, he was pressing you up against the wall, his breathing coming out in ragged puffs that you could feel brushing against your neck and inciting movement into the hairs that had fallen from your bun. His large hands tightened their grip on your wrist as he stared, not making eye contact. You could not only see the conflict in his eyes, you could feel it radiating off of him in palpable waves, and you hoped he didn’t think he was good at hiding emotions. Perhaps that’s why he wore the mask. “I don’t  _ understand  _ how you affect me this way. You incite feelings I didn’t know I could still feel. All from your presence.” He spoke in a low, almost hushed tone, which only served to pull a shudder out of you. 

A lump had formed in your throat, clutching on the words that threatened to escape from you. A shaky hand released your wrists and came up to push a loose hari away from your cheek. “I’ve been watching you ever since Hux hired you. I knew you were force sensitive from the moment you boarded this ship. You couldn’t  _ possibly  _ think I wouldn’t notice.” Ren’s thumb cupped your face almost tenderly, his thumb coming up to stroke your cheek as one would do to their lover. “And I’ve watched your fling with the Lieutenant.” Ren spoke as if Mitaka was a bruise on his fruit. Only a momentary lapse in an otherwise smooth course. “He’s despicable. Weak. Unfitting for a woman like you.” 

Your body was responding to his proximity in ways you didn’t like. Not only was a pool of heat slowly forming at the base of your thighs, but also along your cheekbones, which was arguably  _ worse.  _ Ren let out a small chuckle at your state of fluster and only pressed in closer to you. “Let me into your mind and body, and I can make you feel things you’ve never even imagined.” With that he released you, summoned his helmet, and left you to mull over his suggestion. 

You would never, but he didn’t know that. Perhaps this would serve to be the savior to your horrible week. A little excitement never hurt. 

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter is totally short and sorry it took a bit to update eek! I have a lot going on :( 
> 
> alsooooo sorry for not a lot of you know who, I'm trying to develop the reader a bit more along with her side relations before diving into the main plot. Exposition people~ yes please! aaaaanyways enjoy

That night you laid in your bed, thinking about your day.  _ I know I said I wanted excitement but I don’t know if I can handle this…  _ you gripped your quilt tighter, your knuckles turning white. The anxiety quickly turned red.  _ He doesn’t have the right to just treat me like a plaything to flirt with! I won’t stand for this,  _ you grew resolute as you felt more and more taken advantage of. Although the two of you  _ technically _ didn’t do anything too serious, you still felt as if your relationship should remain strictly professional. Hux would be quite angry if he found out. He already didn’t like Ren. In fact, he hated him with every fiber of his being, and for him to find out that  _ his  _ PA was in cohorts with his enemy. He would surely have an aneurysm. The General was possessive over you, and although you didn’t necessarily like it, you could take care of yourself, you tried not to make him angry. You needed this job. 

Inspiration strikes you out of your thoughts, causing you to roll out of your bed over to the armchair a few feet away. You rose to your knees, pushed the heavy chair about a foot to the left to reveal a small metal panel that resembled a small door with a skeleton lock preventing someone from barging in without a key. Leaning over to a drawer in the small table that stood beside the chair, supporting a lamp and a plant, you removed the small board in the bottom, making a key appear. The key went into the lock and the metal panel clicked open, revealing a small, cardboard box. In it, resided  _ another _ key, which you grabbed and shuffled back over to your bed. You laid down on your rug and used your elbows to crawl underneath your bed. Being on a spaceship had  _ one _ perk: no spiders occupied the dark space beneath your bed, making for an easy hiding place. You moved the top of the rug down, another panel coming into view. The second key popped the door open, and inside the small, dusty compartment was a small datapad; much smaller than your First Order issued one, it was meant to be small and discrete. You had accidentally found this divet unlocked with the key inside a couple weeks after you first arrived. Moving your bed to put your rug down, you had decided it would be the perfect ending spot for your small puzzle. 

The datapad sensed the motion of you picking it up and lit up, scanning your face and retinas for recognition, the device also scanning your fingerprints for extra security. You pulled your legs fully under the bed in an effort to prevent anyone walking in on something weird, they would simply think you were not there.  _ Wait. The chair is still moved _ . You shimmied out just far enough to use your leg to push the chair in front of the panel, effectively closed and latching it shut. This was obviously something you did not want anyone else, not even Octavia or Quinn to find out about. This was top secret. Classified. Redacted. 

Your focus shifted back down to your datapad as you swiped across the screen. The icon page was modeled after a First Order datapad to further throw others off. Tapping a couple here and there, you finally got to where you needed to be. A messaging app. 

GLO: Confirmed; file received. 

S: Copy that, next task?

GLO: Infiltrate ranks, collect data on weapon, control him; turn him. 

A sigh escaped your lips as you read the conversation. Although short, it was  _ packed _ with stressful assignments. If you weren’t focused, you often wondered why you got involved in this business, years of your life most likely shaved off due to stress and anxiety. You were constantly on edge, teetering on succumbing or rising above your angst. The light had always found you in times of hardships, keeping you afloat and devoted. How long you could keep this up, however, was to remain undecided. Especially with the possible effects of your newfound  _ relationship _ with your target. 

You completed the process of putting away the datapad before climbing into your bed. Control him. Turn him. Those words swam around your mind as you stared at the metal ceiling of your quarters. You understood what she wanted. Bring him home. However, you weren't sure if you were up to the task, she could only ask so much of you. After all, you did  _ technically _ have  _ two jobs  _ on the Starkiller. Turning over, you huffed into your silk pillows, once again wondering if you were suited for this mission. Luckily the Commander seemed to have taken an interest in you already, which meant that you wouldn’t have to work too hard to seduce him. Although you were not in possession of an exceedingly large amount of emotional intelligence, you weren’t  _ blind.  _ Ren wouldn’t shove just anyone up against a wall and  _ not _ kill them. You thought you were done for, but the fact that you were still breathing was an indicator enough. Hux would be back tomorrow morning, and your week of torture would be over, with only a few days being truly exciting. With that, you finally dozed off for the night, your thoughts weighing heavy on your consciousness and surly affecting your dreams. 

\------

_ You were in the meadow once again. The small meadow surrounded by your tree elders and encased in young and spirited wildflowers. And once again, there was that shadow, looming against one of your favorite trees. After he appeared the first time, you had decided that you didn’t want to come here if he was going to be tagging along, and for the past couple nights, the meditations before sleeping had worked. It seemed you had forgotten to perform tonight, of course, and here you were; spread out on the grasses, listening and feeling a dark pull at your gut.  _

_ Do not even consider him, (Y/N), the blooms told you, for he is not yours, nor is he your destiny. You huffed, softly stroking a pedal. They were always so cynical. So vague. You wondered if he could hear the nature spirits as well, how embarrassing if he could. The shadow shifted against the tree. He didn’t seem as solid in his presence as he had the last time he had infiltrated your dream, having yet to speak.  _

_ These are just dreams, you told yourself. Manifestations of your light, all that is good, and all that you enjoy. You missed the spirits of Yavin and you missed your friends dearly. Being holed up on a hunk of ore was not good for your spirit, so you put all of your energy into creating this sanctuary so you could lucidly retreat to the leaves and sun during the night.  _

_ He seemed to have conformed to your ideals last time. Shaped himself to your inner most desires. No, you had not forgotten, only pushed it to the back of your mind in a well fortified effort to conceal the fact that you had enjoyed that dream. With him, your world seemed to find its missing balance. You felt complete, and it truly frightened you.  _

_ He had not said anything yet, and neither had you, at least to him directly. His shadow fading slightly, but quickly returning to the pitch black smudge. Kylo, you murmured as you slowly rose from the bed of green into a reclined seated position. You did not bother to speak here anymore, you merely thought, tapping into the force as a means to communicate. Evolution came quickly to your realm through meditation and you had recently found that thinking required much less effort than actually speaking.  _

_ The smudge shifted slightly, a soft hum traveling through the force’s wavelength. Please, tell me why you are here. A light purple wildflower lady brushed your leg in support of the questioning and disturbance of the peace.  _

_ I told you, you bring me here.  _

_ Your chest heaved a sigh as you heard his answer, not satisfied. How do I stop?  _

_ Once again, a hum, slightly amused, washed over you.  _

_ You act as if you do not want me here. I wouldn’t be here if that were true.  _

_ The smudge began to form into a shape, into a physique, then into Ren. Leaves shifted around you. Grass whispered. Wind murmured. What a disturbance. A shadow of darkness clouding a perfect sunny day. The spirits don’t want you here.  _

_ I’m aware. I can hear them too.  _

_ Your cheeks bloomed a rosy blush as Kylo stood form the base of the tree.  _

_ I hear everything.  _

\------

“General. Welcome back, sir,” You stood outside the shuttle, waiting for Hux to strut down the hallway as he always did. It was your cue to follow, but he was standing at the end of the opening of the ship, speaking to a Lieutenant.  _ Speaking of, I wonder where Mitaka is this morning? I haven’t seen him… _

Your thoughts were cut off by the clicking of the General’s heels and a hand on the small of your back. “I trust everything went smoothly while I was gone?” Hux flashed you a smirk and began the walk back to the Command Center. 

“Of course sir. Very smoothly. Hardly any problems.”

“ _ Hardly _ , (Y/N)?”

“Just a couple tantrums, but that is common news, I’m sure.” 

He stared at you out of the corner of his eye before turning back to the hallway. 

“I missed you dearly. Your expertise in paperwork completion keeps it off my desk, and unfortunately, you were not with me.” He paused his steady pace, clicking his heels and turning to you in the empty hallway. “Of course I also missed this uniform,” A small piece of lint was picked off of your blazer, one that only Hux would notice. 

You hummed in response as he twirled a piece of your hair, one of his favorite flirtations. “That oaf didn’t touch you, right? I won’t stand for it.” 

You were used to his possessive nature by now, typically receiving the brunt of it. However, you were faced with a new dilemma. Ren  _ had _ touched you. Perhaps not in the way one would consider blasphemy, but certainly inappropriately for a subordinate and their superior. “No sir, I would not stand for it either.” A small smile found its way onto your face, trying to send your lie through to him, to make it believable. Hux kept your eye contact a moment longer, almost as if he was searching them for the lie. He didn’t seem to find anything though, thankfully, and trailed his gloved hand down your arm before taking off down the hallway again. This was the closest thing you would be getting to a confirmation. 

The morning had gone by smoothly, you had updated Hux on budgetary action taken during his leave, along with a couple other meetings you attended, with no sign of Ren. Sitting in your office, you tapped your pen against the glass desk, thinking about your dream last night. Although you had decided to repress the dreams, this one was surfacing for too often for your liking. Specifically the last words he sent to you before you woke;  _ I hear everything _ . 

Ren was bluffing. He had to be. He had already admitted to you that he couldn’t hear your thoughts, so no, he can’t hear everything. If you were so certain about this, why was it gnawing at you so much? You would think your very first experience with him would be more grabbing. He was soft, almost loving in every touch, a stark contrast to his behavior on the ship.  _ In real life _ , you had to remind yourself. It was only a dream. 

Rising from your chair, you went to mindlessly observe a species of moss, tired of sitting and drowning in your own stressors. You thought about messaging Tave, but she was busy doing routine maintenance on  _ something.  _ Quinn never messaged back and you were growing bored. Plus, you haven’t seen the Lieutenant today, so who was supposed to occupy your thoughts? Your mind drifted to the Commander. It was odd that you  _ also _ hadn’t seen him today. Normally he’s stomping around the deck of shoving troopers out of the way in the hall. Perhaps it was for the best though, the less you see him the better. Maybe the smudge will fade. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning this gets a little iffy. thoughts of not living are had. but anyyywayyy

The walk to the Commander’s quarters that evening was cold and dull, the only source of heat emitted from the plate you held with shaky hands. The past few times you had brought him his food, he had not even been there so you left his meal outside of his door. Truthfully, you thought the whole arrangement was pointless if you weren’t even seeing the guy. That  _ is _ why you would have someone specific and important take the time to deliver a meal; to see them, perhaps even  _ interact _ with them. It seemed  _ you _ were not what the Commander was concerned with. 

A frustrated huff left you at the thought as you stood outside his hatch. Adjusting the plate, you had grown quite adept with it over the past week, onto your forearm, you raised a hand to knock. It was your last day performing the duty and you were overjoyed to be free to eat a lengthy dinner with your friends instead of having to leave only ten minutes after they sit down. 

Much to your demise, the door slid open after two knocks, beckoning you inside the darkness that was the Commander’s quarters. Black furniture, steely grey walls and floors. No color whatsoever. Perhaps it was to keep him feeling angry, sad, or melancholy. Although many viewed the color black as the void and emotionless, you thought it told a greater story. One of struggle, pain, and sadness, and as far as you’re concerned, those are all very valid emotions almost everyone feels throughout their lives. They shape your character and who you are; sometimes for the better, and sometimes for the worse. 

Ren was standing with his back to you, gazing out the window at the stars slowly drifting by. His shape was lost in his cowl and cloak, resembling the smudge that you wished to repress. You pushed the thought back, far into your inner most memory, concealed behind layers and layers of mental fortitude. Venturing further into the room, you placed the warm plate on the small dining table and remained next to it, waiting for further instruction. You had learned to never assume anything when it came to him. He might ask you to stay just as much as he might immediately expel you from the room. Silence thickened in the room, the air slowly becoming palpable and stifling as you simply stood there, your hip cocked and your arms folded across your chest, a neutral expression expertly masking your features. Truthfully, you were nervous about being here with him. He made you feel anxious for the first time in years, the confidence you portrayed was usually enough to string you along through your days. This man, however, shook you to your core, made you question everything you knew about yourself. Your beliefs, morals, character, and you didn’t like it. 

He turned around to face you slowly, his metallic mask covering any emotion possibly portrayed. Of course this made it nearly impossible to read him, only having his body language to analyse, which at times, and in a dark room, was not nearly enough. Your eyes ghosted across his moving figure as you straightened out your hip waiting for your fate. Ren stopped about a foot away from you, glaring down at your smaller form. Butterflies swarmed to your stomach, your heart’s pace picked up, your walls weakened with just a look from him. 

The Commander removed his helmet and shook out his raven hair before taking a seat at the table. You watched him closely, trying to pick up on anything that could possibly clue you in on what he was going to do next, but he simply popped a steamed carrot in his mouth. Still, you waited for him to dismiss you, not wanting to awaken the beast. “(Y/L/N). Come.” He pushed his chair away from the table slightly.  _ Kriff, this is it for me.  _ Legs numb, you slowly sauntered over to him, attempting to look as unphased as possible, and stepped into place at his side. 

“Take a seat.” The gruff command was all you needed, immediately turning to take the seat across from him, thankful for the order.

“No, here.” You felt a tug and you were pulled onto his lap, stunned into silence, which didn’t happen very often. The Commander’s thighs were firm beneath your bottom, his chest and abdomen prominent and pressing against your back. 

You were positive, you looked like a gaping fish right then, your jaw slack and your arms hanging at your side. One of his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, the other picking up his fork once again. “Sir-” a carrot interrupted your protesting, and you instinctively closed your mouth around the fork. He waited a second, then pulled the fork through your lips to stab another steamed carrot to bring to his own mouth. It honestly wasn’t even that great of a carrot. 

You knew you were supposed to feel uncomfortable, but the heat between your legs and butterflies disrupting your stomach implied otherwise, and with the fog quickly clearing from your brain, you fully registered the situation, understanding what you had to do. Control. You needed to be in control, and you knew _ just  _ how to obtain that. Ren’s arm tightened around you as you shifted on top of him, specifically making an effort to subtly grind your butt down on the bulge in his pants, feeling a small twitch at the motion. A small but victorious smirk spread across your face, his hand pausing for a second, carrot in mid air.  _ That’s what I thought.  _ Your hand came up to grasp his thick forearm as you shifted again, feigning an attempt at comfort. “Sit still.” He ordered from behind you, breath brushing your neck and ear. His hand moving down your front a fraction of an inch. Although he was still in a place one would deem generally acceptable, you could only think about the hand venturing lower and lower until- “Someone’s coming.” 

Through your inner ramblings, you hadn’t noticed the approaching life, you were genuinely surprised  _ he _ did. A couple moments passed of him listening, feeling the air and force around you, a disturbance surging through the charged atmosphere. Ren didn’t spare you as he pushed away from the table and stood up abruptly, seemingly forgetting where you were seated. Thank the gods you managed to stay on your feet, your body feeling unsteady as he summoned his helmet and stormed out the door with a dangerous, almost murderous aura you could feel from light years away. The hatch closed behind you as you followed the same path he took, towards the center of the ship. Perhaps the General would have information on what was going on. There’s something afoot, and you’re going to find out just what it is. 

After being aboard this hunk of bolts for so long, all the halls and floors and hatches blurred together, your body on autopilot carrying you towards the Command Center. The white of the Troops splotched the walls, and red flashing alarms had begun to go off, only increasing the chaos. Your pace quickened as you decided to take a quieter route back the to Hux, not wanting to encounter anymore idiotic Troopers. Rounding the corner, you immediately felt as though you were standing directly parallel to the strange wavelength that was causing  _ such _ a ruckus. The wall to your right looked normal, the floor dropping off to your left into some sort of storage conglomerate; this was not an end of the ship you often frequented. So why did something feel so horribly...wrong? A pair of footsteps interrupted your attempted interpretation, sounding frantically from behind you. They seemed scared. Out of place. Ah. You turned around to see a tall, dark, man clad in a pilot's leather jacket and a blaster in hand, aimed point blank at you.  _ Wait a second. That jacket looks familiar...  _ your eyes widened, staring at the man as if he had just committed mass murder. “Where did you get that jacket?” The demand tumbled from you before you could stop it. 

“I know you. You’re Hux’s assistant.” He jabbed the blaster accusingly at you, his dark, thick brows furrowing. 

“You didn’t answer my question. Where did you get that jacket?” It wasn’t so much a question anymore, it was a demand. One that he was not complying with. 

“You always ignored me, but I remember you. I think I accidentally tripped you once,” he trailed off, lowering his blaster a couple inches. 

Anger flared in your chest at the memory that had cemented all Trooper’s fates in your mind. You took a step towards him and raised your hand, “ _ You will tell me where you obtained that pilot's jacket from.” _ He stared at you, further lowering his weapon at your manipulation. 

“Poe Dameron gave it to me after we escaped. I thought he died so I took it initially for memorabilia, but then he let me keep it.”

“What do you mean escaped?” 

“I'm an ex-Stormtrooper, FN-2187. I aided Poe Dameron in his escape.” 

“Poe was here?” How did you not know about this? Releasing your hold on the man, you took a step back, almost stumbling. Rejection washed over you at the realization. Why had the General not told you? Why hadn’t Hux or Ren mentioned a prisoner on board? 

“Do you know him?” Finn had fully lowered his blaster now, slowly approaching you as if you were a ticking time bomb. Perhaps you were. 

“Of course. Tell  _ Poe Dameron  _ that his  _ flower _ ,” the nickname felt foreign in your mouth, not being used for years. “Says that he owes her an apology.” You turned away from him and began to walk quickly down the hall, away from him. Away from the Resistance. Away from betrayal.

“Wait! Come with me, join us,” He shouted down at you, jogging to make up the distance that you had created. 

You let out a bitter scoff at his weak recruitment tactics, almost insulted that he even _ thought _ that would work. “Silly  _ boy _ . You have much to learn about the Resistance.” 

Finn stared at you solemnly as you walked away from him, your shoulders hunched slightly and your arms wrapped around yourself. He didn’t have time to dawdle with thoughts about you, however, he had a ship to destroy, but a little part of him hoped you made it out alive. 

The shatter was felt everywhere. Anguish. Pain. Growth. Your senses were thrown into overload, the force sending shockwaves of despair throughout your entire body. There was only one thing that could cause this. Death. Death of someone well loved, death of someone essential and important. You gripped your head and fell to your knees, the cold metal grates scraping your knees. The pain coursed through every cell in your body, every midichlorian you possessed reacting to the pulsations and you quickly began to fade in and out of consciousness, only the sounds of destruction reminding you what the situation was. The ship was being destroyed. Just as you had heard in the Trooper’s mind. You had to get up.  _ Just get up.  _ Gritting your teeth, you ungracefully rose to your feet, swaying as you took off at a clumsy run to the flight deck, the adrenaline numbing a small amount of the pain. You felt as though your own body was attacking you. The force you would normally utilize for strength was causing your downfall. The collapsing walls were closing in on you, red neon filling your hazy gaze. You just had to make it to the flight deck and you could escape. Escape and live. Live. Did you even want to live? You had no purpose. Only a body meant to fulfill orders given. No. You  _ had  _ to live. For Leia. For Poe. For Tave. You  _ had to live _ . 

Your legs were growing tired as you neared the flight deck, the grates caving in behind you. Octavia was there, searching the hanger, waiting for you. For  _ you.  _ You have to  _ live.  _ Darkness crept into your vision, the pain only seeming to get worse. She called out to you, but you understood it as well as someone underwater would. Her hand.  _ Take her hand _ . 

The connection was made and she pulled you into an escape pod, leaving you to fall onto the cool floor as she had no other choice but to abandon you for the cockpit. Blood fell from your nose, dripping onto the floor. Perhaps this was for the best. You still had orders to fulfill.  The last thought to come to you was an image of your wildflower lady. _He is not your destiny_. You knew that now. You understood. A small smile graced your bloody lips before you let the darkness consume you. Not of pain, not of struggle, but of peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't remember, Leia felt when Han was killed, that was the shatter.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My wifi sux on this train so I had to format this in HTML *nauseous emoji oop* so just uuuh imagine the italics bc they're there in the doc

For days you remained in the pod’s medical bed, completely silent, unmoving, your condition not changing. The only thing that told Octavia you were still alive was the steady beeping of the heart rate monitor, and needless to say she was rightfully worried. You had never pulled anything like this, usually trying as hard as possible to stay out of trouble, per her request, but this, this would be new for anyone. She didn’t know what had happened before she had pulled you into the pod, but you looked absolutely awful; blood running down your face from a scrape on your forehead along with your nose. You blacked out on the floor and haven’t woken up in three days, and only to add insult to injury, the escape pod was not nearly as fast as Tave wanted it to be; its jumping capabilities limited along with a damaged commlink. She trudged back to the cockpit, sighing after checking on you for the second time that hour, anxiety twisting her thoughts into a pit of negativity that she didn’t often linger in. A couple larger patrol ships had made contact through an old morse code transmitter, but other than that, the Finalizer was still absurdly far. Hux had to be worried about you by now, you had told her about his actions, and the subsequent assumptions that came along with them, towards you, and she was worried about Quinn. Although he was annoying and overly flirtatious towards her, she had grown to have a soft spot for him. For now though. She would try to kick the pod up into hyperspace and see how far it got her.   
\------  
Darkness. It’s what you saw, heard, felt, even tasted. Bitter. Metallic. Or maybe that was blood, either way it was gross. You hadn’t seen anything other than black for what felt like weeks. Months. Years even. You didn’t know how long it had been since you escaped from the Starkiller, the concept of time escaping you in your comatose. Unable to move, all you did was think and listen. Sometimes you could hear lightsabers clashing or an engine whirling. You felt the occasional jolt of pain, from your side, from your spine. They came and went, only serving to prove that you weren’t dead. If you focused hard enough, you could almost see a red glow, but that effort put your mind out of commission for at least a couple hours. Probably.  
You felt trapped, trapped in your own body and you absolutely despised it. Why had the General ordered such a massacre when she knew a multitude of her people were on that ship? No, not a ship. That weapon. Why hadn’t she warned you? You could’ve escaped before the destruction. Of course your cover would’ve been blown, but you would’ve been safe. You had thought about that a lot in your little coma. The fact that she had essentially just left you there to die. Now you were in the middle of space, with no communication, none of your good shampoo, and you weren’t even conscious. You were positive you looked absolutely revolting, likely covered in dirt, dust, and blood. The thought made you mentally shiver at the thought. You could hear Octavia moving throughout the ship and sense her stress and anxiety. Multiple times, you had tried to force yourself awake, but something inside you was stopping you. Why? You wish you knew.   
The meadow had left you; you hadn’t returned. However, what the wildflower had whispered to you stuck in your mind. A constant reminder of him. He is not your destiny. You really didn’t understand the unexplainable attachment you had to the Commander. His actions should not have provoked such a response from you, as you had done much more with a lot less important people. Perhaps that was the allure of it all. The fact that not only did General Hux hate him, but you did as well. He was your superior, the relationship was so completely wrong that it generated an undeserving response in your starved mind. This is ridiculous. All you could do in your dark space was think about Ren. All you could do was wonder why he did what he did instead of offing you right then and there, and you were sick of it! Sick of him occupying your thoughts constantly. Sick of smelling his scent over and over. Sick of feeling the curve of your neck tickle with each breath released. Sick of staring into his tormented eyes.   
A red flash cut through your spite. This wasn’t new, you had seen the flash before. A short lived burst of neon, slicing through the haze. Of course you had considered it. What else were you supposed to do? Wake up? Impossible apparently. You had frisked your mind, searching for any recollection of red energy, finding only one thing. Obviously you had heard of Kylo Ren’s famous lightsaber that drove mercilessly through the Resistance, a terrifying symbol of power that only seemed to draw people in, like moths to a flame until they realized it would burn them. The saber was the only thing you could compare to the strikes you were seeing. Perhaps it was all your imagination, a figment produced through sensory deprivation and boredom, but this time, the strike seemed fiercer. More structured. More dangerous. You had never even seen the lightsaber in person, only cleaned up after it, so you didn’t really understand why you were seeing it.   
The flash charged once again through your fog, slicing away at the palpability. It was coming closer, becoming more detailed. A hilt appeared, and soon after two guards erupted from the sides, a trademark characteristic of the famous Ren lightsaber. Closer. A gloved hand wrapped around the mechanism, the red’s glow illuminating draped raven hair and a jagged scar marring a familiar face. A deep whisper sounded from around you and you were standing across from him, grey glow in hand, the only color rolling from the plasma’s spite. You stood, face to face, weapons at the ready, staring each other down as if the two of you were mortal enemies.   
Another sound erupted from behind you, breaking your focus. An abandoned pilot’s helmet rolled clumsily on the ground, with its owner standing behind you, a faint, soft blue aura surrounding him, a stark contrast to the angry red buzzing opposite you. A choice. You had to choose. Choose. Choose.   
Light infiltrated your senses. Harsh, white light from cheap bulbs and a smell, finally different from his, filled your nostrils. It was sterile, unwelcoming. Your fingers and toes twitched, attempting to restore purchase. Eyelids heavy, you slowly opened them against the light, deciding you would almost welcome back the darkness that you had grown used to. The ship around you was fuzzy, and swayed slightly back and forth. A headache tore through your skull and you fell back into your flat pillow. A yelp and your name was rushed out and Octavia was by your side, hands hovering above you, seemingly unable to remember the proper aid. “Kriff! I thought you would never wake up,” A tear hit your cheek, not yours, but belonging to the worn out engineer that hovered above you.   
It took all of your strength to lift your hand to wipe away the salt that stained her fair features. “It would take more than a little destruction to kill me, Tave.”   
Her arms were around you in an instant, almost pulling you off your bed and into her lap. It jostled your aching bones, but you let her, not wanting to worry her anymore than you already had.   
“I don’t understand what happened, Tave,” You managed to roughly spit out a partial question from against her chest.   
“The Starkiller exploded. It was a resistance attack, we just made it out,” although she was crying, she still did her best to answer your question, something you always admired about her; dedication.   
“Where are we going?” The complete bout of your intelligence had not managed to fully dig its way out of the comatose quite yet, and it only served to annoy you in your groggy state.   
“We’re on our way to the finalizer, it’s the current regrouping spot, but unfortunately our pod was slightly damaged in the waves of the explosion and with it went our commlink, so I haven’t been able to contact any of my pilots, but I still have the bare minimum navigation system and thank kriff for our jumper because without that we would really be screwed. But thank kriff you’re awake because that’s what was really worrying me, I thought you were dead!” She was rambling and kriff, it hurt your head. Not only were you beginning to feel the true extent of your injuries, but you were also finally comprehending what had actually happened. The Starkiller was gone. Poof. Blasted out of existence and with it, your beautiful bathroom, your communication links, everything.   
Tave had let you lay back down on your cot and gone back to attend some sort of beeping being admitted from the control panel. Although you longed to pilot once again, the urge to just go back to sleep was overpowering any urge you had to get up and help her. Eyelids heavy, you weakly pulled the woven blanket clower to your face, finding a bit of security in the encasement. Hopefully, a dreamless sleep would encapsulate you soon enough.   
\------  
Kylo was absolutely furious. The audacity the Resistance had to blow up his galactic super weapon before they could even use it for what it was truly for. His body was shaking with anger as he piloted the Command Shuttle away from the wreckage. He had escaped, not with his new Personal Assistant as he had intended to, but with an even larger, gaping hole ripping apart his chest. The murder of his father was supposed to further his decent into the dark side, an aid to his journey into sithhood, but all it had left him with was the lingering pain of his mother’s wave and perhaps even a trace of regret.   
And then there was the girl. Her intoxicating scent filled his mind, the sensation of her skin under his gloved hands crept into his mind often enough for him to notice and distract him in times he truly shouldn’t be distracted. It was all he could do stop the urge to just take her right then in her tiny box of an office. Something about her, he didn’t know what, just screamed for him, stretching and pulling at every fiber of his being. The audacity.   
Kylo’s gloves tightened as he gripped the joystick tighter, his mood continuing to sour. All he wanted was to murder his father, become a sith, and fuck Hux’s little thing until he physically couldn’t anymore. Was that too much to ask? His frown deepened, quietly resembling the essence of a child whose parents denied them ice cream for breakfast. He had been denied his sweets when she was pulled into a measly escape pod by that engineer she loved so dearly.   
Although Luke had always preached that attraction and passion would lead to a Jedi’s downfall, Snoke had taught the complete opposite. Passion could be the key to unlocking a Sith’s true potential and power, and that was Kylo’s ultimate goal. His grandfather did all he did initially to protect Padme, he became Darth Vader by turning the passion into power. After all, passion wasn’t always positive, it’s often interpreted as hatred rather.   
Kylo placed the shuttle in autopilot and rose from his seat. He needed to meditate, perhaps even reach out to her. He couldn’t help but entertain the thought of a force connection, something not many experience, a rare, but typically welcomed phenomenon. Determination rolled off of him as he sank to the metal paneled floors of the Shuttle. He had been able to delve into your subconscious, but just barely, the wall chronically thwarting him. Kylo had thought that if he threw manifestations unique to him, you would be able to identify the triggers and invite him into the meadow again. However, he received absolutely nothing back from you. No bricks dissolving, no whispering winds, no fleeting phrases, and it only served to irritate him further, the hole eroding his soul further.   
He would find her, however, whether he had to physically drag her out of a ship or invade her mind until he could coerce her to come herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah we finally got a glimpse into kylos mind ahaha. Also there's sexual tension but the reader is honestly too oblivious to understand how blatant it is.   
> Sorry I went missing take the posters down haha im moving across the country so it's been hard to find time/motivation to write. Im literally typing this from a train bc I now have an exorbitant amount of free time for the next 48 hours

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. You're amazing and I love you~


End file.
